The drive was a short distance and all the way Paris kept talking about how the preparations for the engagement was going and her expectations for the party. I couldn't agree more with her more although my mind and thought were fixed on Rory. I wanted to tell him a lot of things, and I also want to make him realise I'm not like Ginger.
"We are here," Paris announces happily and pulls me along.
I stumble behind her as we both run into the two-storey building with tainted glass. The inside is sophisticatedly beautiful and endowed with different colour and classes of wedding gowns and other gorgeous dresses and wears and various staff attending to different customers ready to purchase one thing or another. Paris pulls me along and I still wonder how she can walk so fast when she's on six inches stilettoes.
"We are almost there, Clara is waiting for us." She presses on a button on the door when we reach it and it opens and we enter and there stand a very gorgeous, tall, brunette probably in her late twenties or early thirty.
On seeing us, she smiles and walks to us embracing Paris in a friendly gesture and she pulls back to look at me. Her eyes scan me from head to toes in half displeasure and half careless manner. Not that I don't expect such treatment from people of her class though.
"Clara, meet Taylor, my Personal assistant and a good friend."
Straightway as she says friend, Clara smiles at me and takes my hand in for a quick shake saying; "Nice to meet you," before dropping it like I'm some kind of disease.
"So, Clara, I need the best engagement gowns you've yet designed in this house."
"Well, you know where to come always, girl." Clara flashes her a cheesy grin and ushers us into the inner room where there are even more excellent displays of the most gorgeous sets of gowns I have ever seen.
I adjust my glasses to make sure I'm not just making up things with my brains, but they are really in front of me.
"What colour do you think suits me, Taylor?" Come Paris's voice, pulling me into reality to see her holding a red, long, sleeveless gown and a long blue lace gown with its back bare and on full display.
"The blue," I reply before looking away to the ground.
"I'll go change and check it out please come with me, Taylor?"
"Okay." I nod and follow her into the closet Clara shows us.
We enter and close the door and Paris begins to undress and I look away from her, no wanting to be intimidated by her perfect figure.
"I want everything to be perfect for the engagement, but I know it's going to be anything but that." She mumbles painfully as she pulls the gown over her head.
"Why is that?" I raise my brow.
"Because Rory's already got someone." She replies casually, but I can feel the pain that's deep within her voice. "It's not like I didn't expect it from the start, it's not a real marriage, but I just think whoever the other woman is she's lucky."
"You think?" I ask with curiousness. "She's not the one marrying Rory, you are."
She turns to me with a raised brow. "I'm lucky? I might have his body, but his mind, heart and soul is somewhere else's, someone else's." She sighs in defeat and hooks the holds on both the arms of the dress together.
"But for what's worth, I don't ever want to meet this other woman." She shakes her head unconsciously, expertly masking her rage behind her pretty face. "I might not be able to handle not hurting her, I'll want to make her life a living hell like she's making mine."
Knowing Paris she doesn't make empty threats, and my stomach flips in panic which I can't seem to control.
We finish and when Paris sees herself in the mirror, she smiles in satisfaction and then looks at me, "I love it!" she squeals. "Do you think blue stilettos would be good?"
I nod, "But not as good as a silver colour stiletto would be."
"Silver stilettos it is." She agrees, before going in to change into her clothes.
She comes back and gives the gown to the girl now standing by.
"Pick a gown, Taylor," she orders and I almost don't realise she's talking to me.
"W-what?" I stutter dumbly.
"Come on, I want you to appear sexy for tomorrow night, tell guys you're available and ready to mingle."
That's the problem, I'm not available or ready to mingle.
I've already gotten someone.
"Come on."
Okay." I look around the room and my eyes land in a long black lace dress hanging at the last spot of the room I say, "the black dress."
The girl brings it down and brings it to me and only when I'm holding it do I realise that it's cut from its mid-thigh down. I want to say no I change my mind, but I don't want to be demanding on Paris goodwill.
"You've got good taste girl," Paris commends, then turns to the girl. "Okay wrap that up with the finest of your black stilettos."
Ten minutes later.
We are out both holding two bags that cost more than $50,000 and yet looking like we are holding nothing more than just tissue papers.
"I called up Mitchell for the decoration, so I don't have to bother you. You can take a taxi from here and I will call you if I need any other thing from you."
"Okay, Paris, thanks for everything."
"You're welcome, Taylor, say Hi to your mom for me okay?" She enters her car and the engine starts.
"Okay," I answer, and she waves me.
I call a taxi and gets in and after giving my home address to him, I close the door. Halfway through the drive home, my phone begins to ring. I pull it out of my purse and the caller ID is Rory.
I answer and quickly place the phone to my ear, completely eager to hear his voice and he seems to knows this and so he just breathe. It's raw, noisy and laboured and the trills send shivers down my spine. I bite my lips trying to keep myself from losing my sanity in public transport. He takes a quick breath and his mouth makes a pop sound and I realise he's been sucking something, making me wish I'm there right now. I cover my mouth, but the moan I'm trying to conceal already escapes me.
"Seems like it worked." He says hoarsely, but his words hold more weight than a ton to me now.
"Well, it did," I reply, my cheek going red from embarrassment and thanking God I wasn't facing him now.
"Why did you call, Milady?" He asks in a formal tone, I almost roll my eyes.
"You just called me remember?"
"Yes I did, but you called first. Hours ago?"
Wanting to cut to the chase I ask. "Can I see you?"
"When?"
"Whenever you're free."
"Free? Hun, I could clear off the whole working schedule for a month if you ask me to."
"Well, I'm not that selfish."
"No, but I am."
"I want to see you."
"Okay, come over to my office now."
His office and have all eyes on me?
My eyes widen and an all overwhelming fear take charge of me. "W-what?"
"Or don't. I will come and pick you up, just tell me where." Probably figuring out my fear of seeing people out.
I nod vigorously then realise he's not present with me. "Umm, yeah."
"Okay love, wear something sexy." He whispers but makes it audible enough so I can hear it.
I gulp and my cheek burns up, I don't have a sexy outfit. As I zoom back into reality I hear him chuckle. "Just kidding."
I groan angrily, "You're gonna pay for this."
"Does being tied to a bed and whipped count as punishment?" He teases, laughingly.
"No, you frustrating piece of shit, but bashing your stupid brain in with a Baseball bat does!"
"May the best offender win then."
"Fine bye."
"Bye, love you."
His last words catch me off guard instantly and I bite my lips hardly stopping myself from replying to him, and after waiting on the phone line and getting no reply, he ends the call.
I do want to tell him I love him with the whole of my heart, mind and soul, but before that, there's something I need to know before I can clearly and boldly make that statement.
It's just an hour away.